


Amplify

by Helholden



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Cunnilingus, F/M, Hate Sex, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2175027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helholden/pseuds/Helholden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a tumblr prompt — Peter likes to make Lydia scream because he's curious. And really, that’s all the summary this needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amplify

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** Takes place towards the end of Season 4, so Lydia is already 18. I hope this prompt meets its expectations! It got smutty so fast, and then it just spiraled out of control. Oops.

* * *

 

The first time he does it, it’s out of amusement. A prank, if you will.

 

Lydia has never been very comfortable around him, but lately, that has begun to change. Now that they work together for the same cause, they find themselves in each other’s company more often than not. At first, it was only small things that brought them together. An exchange of documents or knowledge. Peter coming over to hand her a USB port with files that needed translation for Derek. Sharing a room together, though Derek or Stiles were usually there as well.

 

The last few times, though, he came over by himself. Lydia only hesitated on the first day. The whole thirty minutes he was there, she thrummed with a tension so thick the air felt stifling to breathe. When he left without incident and came over alone the next time, Lydia let him in without questioning it. Again, Peter left her house without incident.

 

However, it’s beginning to get boring.

 

Peter idly hangs a rubber snake on the bathroom towel rack during the fifth time he is there alone with her. Oh, it’s childish, yes, but he never really grew up. It’s also the only way he can think to scare her without breaking any of the rules. It’s out of pure curiosity. Peter just wants to see how she reacts.

 

He wonders if she’ll scream.

 

Eventually, Lydia excuses herself to the bathroom. Not long after she shuts the door, a bloodcurdling scream tears through the upper floor.

 

He is sitting at her computer desk with his laptop when she comes storming back with the thing in her hand, laughing harder than he intended to be. Lydia fumes. She throws the snake at him. Peter reacts quickly, raising his arms to block it.

 

She turns on her heels and stalks off.

 

“Oh, come on,” Peter calls after her, “it was just a joke!”

 

-

 

The second time he does it, it’s a pure accident.

 

Lydia backs into him, forgetting he is there. Never mind that they all came here together as a group to inspect the warehouse, Derek and Scott walking forward while Malia and Kira take the left and Liam and Stiles take the right and Lydia is hesitant to move ahead without super-strength and Peter lingers back because he likes to see the outcome of any given situation before rushing into action.

 

Lydia takes a step back and bumps into his body and screams so loud the dead can hear them coming, and Peter reacts quickly by throwing his arms around her and clamping a hand over her mouth, but they’ve already been discovered and it’s too late and Peter can hear the clash of fighting ahead echo back at them.

 

A figure leaps out of the shadows, and Peter tosses her aside to take on the foe.

 

He kills three people that night right in front of her using only his claws, slashing throats and gutting abdomens. Lydia never brings up his hand over her mouth in the weeks that follow.

 

In fact, she barely meets his eyes anymore.

 

-

 

The third time he’s responsible for making her scream, he isn’t even there.

 

Lydia shoots upright in bed, awaking from a dream. She is covered in sweat, and she was in the warehouse again in her mind. Peter killed the men all over again, and then he came over to her, kneeling in front of her, taking her hands into his, and asked if she was all right. He never did that in reality, but he was concerned for her in the dream.

 

Lydia cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. That didn’t happen in reality either.

 

In the dream she let him take her on the cold, hard stone floor of the warehouse, let him fuck her brains out until she screamed as the adrenaline rush and sex drove her into ecstasy.

 

Now awake, she places a hand on her heart and tries to calm her breathing. She lies back, but wriggles uncomfortably in bed. Lydia closes her eyes and slips a hand beneath the sheets. She tries to picture Aiden, but it doesn’t work.

 

Lydia brings herself to completion with the thought of Peter Hale fucking her on the dirty floor of the warehouse.

 

It disgusts her afterwards, but she’s never had an orgasm like that before either.

 

-

 

The fourth time Peter makes her scream, it’s been weeks since the incident at the warehouse and he knows nothing about the dreams. He does know Lydia Martin has been acting weird, though, so when she suddenly kisses him out of the blue, he is unsurprisingly shocked to the point of freezing in place.

 

Lydia freezes, too, quickly realizing her mistake. She backtracks, pulls away, and heads for the door. Peter snatches her arm, stopping her. She looks back at him, her look somewhere between disbelief and irritation.

 

“What was that for?” he immediately asks.

 

“Nothing,” Lydia says tightly. She goes to turn away again. He tugs on her arm, halting her a second time.

 

“Don’t ‘ _nothing_ ’ me,” he says. “What was that for?”

 

Lydia walks right into his personal space, their arms falling slack between them, and eyes him down with a fierce glare. “Fuck me,” she demands.

 

Peter’s eyes grow wide.

 

Lydia narrows her eyes. “Just like I thought,” she says in a light voice, trying to cover up a twinge of rejection. “You’re probably a limp dick, anyw—”

 

He yanks her back to him as she pulls away. Lydia balls up her fist and slams it into his chest, but his mouth clamps over hers and his hand is fixed hard on the back of her neck. Her teeth draw blood, and Peter hisses, but he doesn’t let her go. He kisses her through the blood of her bite and the struggle, and Lydia feels a rush of adrenaline change her entire opinion on the matter.

 

She reaches out for his belt and fumbles with the hooks as he drags her to the bed a few feet away. He throws her onto it, temporarily stunning her as she hits the mattress and bounces. He tears off his shirt and climbs atop her. When their lips meet again this time, Lydia holds the sides of his face like he’s her lover instead of her enemy.

 

He likes to use his mouth on her body as well as his fingers, and when he sinks into her half-naked and mad with desire, Lydia digs her nails deep into his back, marking him. He heals, though. Every scrape, it heals, and she cuts him harder next time, relishing in the pained grunts he releases near her ear.

 

When Peter pins her legs flat against the bed by the underside of her knees, the whole angle changes and her muscles scream and she screams along with every pound of his hips.

 

Her body is in shock, even after it’s over and he lies beside her on the bed.

 

She can hear him trying to catch his breath. The bed shifts beneath his weight as Peter moves to get comfortable, while the tremors are everywhere in her nerves. She can’t move but she _is_ moving, shaking in a frozen stillness as she is incapable of processing what just happened between them.

 

Lydia expects him to get up and go without a word, and true to her expectation, he doesn’t say a word, but he does roll against her side and place his hand flat on her stomach and nestle his face against her hair.

 

His breathing levels out, and Lydia exhales a tremulous breath.

 

-

 

She gets more adventurous with him as they continue their liaisons. Peter likes to close his hand around her throat and get her off while limiting her air supply. Lydia does the same to him as she rides his lap, and decides she likes the way his eyes roll back into his skull and how his back arches sharply as he gasps for air.

 

Peter comes over one night while her mother is asleep and leaves her bedroom door unlocked on purpose. _For the thrill_ , he says.

 

He is uncharacteristically gentle with her that night, combing her hair behind her ear and laying soft kisses upon her lips. He walks her to the bed and lays her on it, but turns Lydia over until she’s on her palms and knees. She is hesitant, but he catches her ear with his teeth and a sharp tingle courses down her spine and loosens her taut nerves.

 

His fingertips raise her nightgown, baring her bottom to the cool air. He curls his thumbs under her panties and pulls them down, kissing bare skin as he goes. It’s completely new to her, but she doesn’t fight it.

 

When he pulls back his hand and slaps her, hard, Lydia has to bite down on her lip to prevent from screaming. It’ll wake up her mother. She looks over her shoulder and glares at him. Peter accepts the look without any guilt, and then he kisses the angry red mark his hand left behind on her pale skin.

 

She stares at him, and he keeps eye contact. He smacks her again. This time she closes her eyes, bites down hard. She feels herself being turned on by it, so she lowers her head in a gesture of submission and arches her back.

 

He spanks her until her ass is red and sore and aching all over, and then he slides his cock into her easily; she’s so wet, she offers no resistance. Lydia parts her lips, moaning aloud from the very back of her throat. When he fucks her, Lydia has to bite down on her pillow to keep quiet. Her screams come out as muffled squeals with every slap of flesh and pound of his hips. He knots his fist in her hair and pulls back hard enough to cause tension in her neck without hurting her, raising her from the bed.

 

Lydia has no willpower to bite back the screams without the pillow, so he covers her mouth as he pulls back on her hair, fucking her too hard and too deep.

 

Afterwards, Lydia can’t even kneel upright. She falls loose to the bed, quavering in the wake of her orgasms that have left her nerves utterly wrecked. She’s never been fucked like that before in her life. Jackson was pretty standard for a boyfriend. He wasn’t into the kinky stuff.

 

Peter kisses her bare shoulder gently and settles beside her. He runs his knuckles in light strokes up and down her back.

 

Lydia shudders into the touch, wondering how pain could amplify the pleasure.

 

-

 

She sits in his lap, and he tries to focus on anything other than the fact that she is _in_ his lap. Her hair is right in front of him, and it smells so good, and his hands reach up unconsciously to grip her hips. Lydia pauses from shifting through the papers in her hands, and she looks over her shoulder at him.

 

“What?” Peter asks, his fingers kneading through her skirt. Lydia shifts in his lap on purpose, wriggling as if to find a more comfortable position, and he grabs her harder to still her. “Lydia—”

 

She drops the papers, grips the handles on the chair, and grinds down.

 

He gives up then.

 

Lydia goes to turn around in his lap, and he scoops her up, extracting a surprised squeak from her lips. Peter lays her on the bed, her legs hanging off of the edge, and kneels between them. He pushes up her skirt and pulls her panties only as far as her knees. He takes her hand and guides it to her panties.

 

“Hold them,” he orders her, and Lydia stares at him silently before following his instructions, wrapping her fingers around them and grasping tight. “Now, pull them to you.”

 

Lydia makes a face, but Peter leans forward and lays a gentle bite on her exposed thigh. She gasps and complies. The motion draws her legs closer to her body, but gives him perfect access to everything in between. When his lips touch her thigh again, Lydia lets out a strangled moan. He can smell her desire on her before he’s even begun.

 

He forgoes all of the gentleness and tender touches to dive right in and take what he wants while giving her what she needs. Lydia shudders above him, struggling between holding onto her panties and instinctively wanting to grasp his hair. His fingers brand her thighs as his tongue pushes deep, his mouth covering her whole, and Lydia can’t keep silent.

 

He assaults her further until she comes, comes, comes, and when he adds fingers, she whimpers at first and arches next, and then cries out as he paces himself with harsh, quick thrusts of his arm.

 

Peter withdraws himself before she can find another release. He undoes his pants and climbs on top of her, enters her before she can say a word, and Lydia squeals at the first harsh thrust. The shock in her eyes fades to pleasure, and even as he’s thrusting into her, she manages, “My mom is still _home_ —”

 

He places the side of his hand against her mouth. “Then, bite down—”

 

Lydia looks horrified, until he thrusts hard and erases the look straight off of her face, and she opens her mouth instinctively to yell—Peter covers her mouth with his hand, muffling her scream. He thrusts even harder next, and she bites down on his hand, teeth digging into the flesh. He grunts at the fresh pain, but it only emboldens him more.

 

He fucks her so hard that the bed can barely take it, let alone her—and finds an angle and depth just right to make Lydia scream every time he hits it. She bites down so hard on his hand that her teeth draw blood, and it seeps slowly from the corner of her mouth down her cheek. Peter bends forward to lick it up, never missing a beat even as he feels her muscles contracting from orgasm around him.

 

When he comes, he doesn’t pull out. He gets a rush to lay claim on her like that. There is something very animal, very instinctual in the act of having her in such a personal way, and maybe, just maybe, it goes a little bit beyond that. Lydia falls slack beneath him as he goes still.

 

He pulls his hand back from her mouth when he realizes her teeth have let him go. Peter watches with fascination as it heals—as if he has never seen it happen a million times before. When he looks down at her, Lydia’s eyes are calm but hazy. She licks the blood from her lips and rises up to kiss him.

 

“I’m not sure if my mom heard that,” she says against his mouth, and he can’t help but smile.

 

“Well,” he says, “next time we’ll just have to make sure you scream louder.”

 

 


End file.
